


Misconceptions

by graywhatsit



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Gen, Hat Films, Other, they weren't, thought they were dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 07:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4091596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graywhatsit/pseuds/graywhatsit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone thinks they're dating.<br/>They aren't going to dissuade the rumors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misconceptions

It was a little funny at first, if weird.

    None of the three wanted to be apart– they were best friends, after all– and so they went everywhere together. Things were more fun with friends, and wasn’t part of the point of friendship sharing life with them?

    Going everywhere together got them these weird looks, even supposedly secret smiles. Some people watching with scorn or worry or amusement, and others yet coming up to congratulate them on something none of them really understood. Any attempt to find out why people were acting so god damned weird about it was fruitless, simply resulting in another smile and an, “oh, nothing”.

    It wasn’t nothing if people were staring.

    And whispering amongst themselves when they thought the trio couldn’t hear.

    None of the boys had super hearing, but neither were they sub-par, and gossip and bad tidings carry like dandelion fluff.

    _“Is that a new fad?”_

_“Honestly, it’d be bad enough if it were only two of them…”_

_“Poor things– I hope they don’t expect it to last.”_

    Expect what to last? Was friendship a crime? Honestly, you decide to walk with your friends and suddenly people are talking behind your backs and avoiding you like the plague. It really only got them to stick closer together.

    Of course, the whispers and looks died down and even faded completely when they separated in order to go back to school. There wasn’t a word spoken about fads or anything being weird or wrong with them. They were just three young adults getting their educations.

    Until the next break came and they were all together again, when it all started up again like dousing a fire with kerosene.

    And a good dose of napalm.

    It took a surprising amount of time before they actually figured out what everyone was getting at.

    “Oh. Oh god. They think we’re a partnership.”

    Ross paused mid-game at Trott’s words, looking up from his hunched position at the computer– honestly, this hobby would be the death of his back. “A partnership, huh? Is that what we’re calling it?”

    “Triad sounds cooler. _Triad_ , Trott.” Smith was across the room, so the shortest of the group couldn’t do much of anything about his friend’s tone, especially since there was nothing to throw in his general vicinity.

    “Trio, triad, partnership– whatever the fuck you call it. They think we’re boyfriends, guys.”

    “We aren’t?” Even from here, Trott could see the false pout– the exaggeration certainly helped. “But Trotty, I thought we all had something.” Something round and shiny and metal narrowly missed his ear, hitting the wall with a solid and resounding thunk. “Thanks for the quid, Trott. Needed that.”

    “Trott’s more broke than you are, give it back. And what’s the problem?” Ross was back to his game, speaking as he dove for cover. A few rapid-fire clicks and he spoke up again. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with dating each other, right? Trott, look–”

    “I’m not saying there’s a problem,” Trott replied, digging deep for patience and placing his returned pound coin there as he did so. “Three people can date, _more_ than three can, guys can. I’m just saying that’s _why_.”

    “It’ll give them something to talk about other than the weather for once.” Smith shrugged. “Now, are you playing, or aren’t you?”

* * *

    Why should it bother them?

    They knew they weren’t dating, and no one as of yet had come up and decided to be a twat about it, so it wasn’t an issue. At least they knew what everything was about, now.

    Besides, it did get them some perks.

    It got overly-pushy and overly-flirty people to leave them be, for one. Even if you are interested in dating, that sort of behavior can really put you off, and it’ll really make you uncomfortable if you aren’t interested.

    They weren’t, really, not at the time. There were more important things to worry about in the world, like education and jobs.

    If a mutual friend of the trio heard about some activity allowing for three people, they were the first to hear about it. More than once, even a complete stranger offered, going on about cute couples– sorry, _trios_ – and how wouldn’t it be nice to have time for just each other?

    They didn’t mind getting alcohol at tastings like the one whisky tasting in Scotland, or going to the beach together for no other reason than to dare each other to go into the freezing water and eventually all end up wet in some capacity with stones in their pockets and shoes, so why not take them up on it? They could deal with a few romantically-coded things if it meant huge discounts and days off.

    It got a little weirder and more irritating upon their rise to ‘stardom’, as it were. Fans were nice and incredibly generous and supportive– even if the thing they were supporting wasn’t exactly based in reality– but some people..

    Well, not everyone knows when to stop. They’d seen and read enough fan creations to last them for quite some time– not that they would ever once ask them to stop being creative. Some things are just too much, even for the strongest-willed among us, and they wouldn’t consider themselves _particularly_ strong willed, at least no more than anyone else.

    They were at least thankfully left alone on Valentine’s Day to do whatever they wanted, said with suggestive tones and looks by everyone outside of the trio and with relief by everyone in it. It was enough every other day of the year, thank you very much, and the privacy was very much welcome.

    Then, Smith came up with an idea.

* * *

    It was a post-convention day, that February 14th. They weren’t due to go back home until the next day, meaning they had a full day to relax and recover and hopefully protect themselves from conflu before travelling.

    Thank god. Getting there had been a race in and of itself, with train tickets and delays and passes, just managing to get to the hotel at 3 am the day of. After getting up at 3 am the day before in order to get there _on time_. Travelling was the biggest pain in the ass there ever was.

    They couldn’t bring themselves to argue about the single king-size bed. They’d all slept in one before, multiple times, even when not abroad. Exhausted, the trio had simply collapsed into one big pile.

    It was similar to the one they were in right now, except with a few more bags and jackets and shoes. It was way more comfortable in pajamas.

    “Have an idea,” the gingery-haired man mumbled, the noise dampened by the soft white pillow he currently had his face buried in.

    “‘s it a sketch? Can’t do a sketch, too–” Ross yawned, shoving Trott’s arm off of him in order to stretch out a little, “–early. Later.” Not that any of them really knew what time it was– if they had just woken up, it was too early.

    “Hey!” The shortest of the three didn’t really sound too angry, still a little slurred and thick from sleep. “Don’t push me.” As he spoke, he hypocritically pushed at Smith with his legs, only trying to ease the cramp from having curled up.

    “Called, uh..” Smith sniffled, scrunching his eyes shut before turning his face out of the pillow and into the brightened world outside. “Called– shut the fucking curtains, Ross, god!” Grumbling to himself, he swiped a hand clumsily, nearly clocking Trott in the head with it and managing to press the warm, slightly sweaty palm into Ross’ face.

    Ross shoved Trott, who in turn shoved Smith– well, was more pushed into him. Trott whined low in his throat, but didn’t say anything otherwise, simply twisting one of his fists into the comforter to awkwardly pull over his head. “You close them, ‘m comfortable.”

    “Trott, close the curtains and stop pushing me.”

    “Fuck off, how about that? You want them closed, you close them.”

    Smith gave a low whine, something he’d done more than once before. “Trott..” He dragged the name out once, and when that didn’t work, he did it again, longer and higher-pitched.

    If there was a more annoying sound in the world, Trott hadn’t heard of it. “Christ! Just shut up!” Grumbling, he squirmed out from under the blankets and between his larger friends, stumbling on still sore legs to shut the curtains. Though neither of his friends really wanted to keep their eyes open in the blazing light, the sight of Trott’s hair– usually neat and straight, but now even messier than Smith’s– was enough to get them snickering. Once it was blessedly dark once more, Trott flopped back into his spot, cutting their giggles short as the wind was knocked out of them..

    “Thanks, mate.” The hand Smith placed on Trott’s already-tousled head was shoved off with a grunt, the brunet man grimacing as he reached up to try and restore some order. “As I was saying, it’s called best friend day.”

    “Best friend day.”

    Smith nodded at Ross’ deadpan response, though the slightly shorter man’s eyes were closed again, his face half turned into the pillow under him and the other half covered by an arm. Which arm? Who knew. “It’s a day where best friends stay the fuck in bed and don’t eat breakfast until 3pm.”

    Between them, Trott hummed, nuzzling into his pillow. “I like it, already. What happens next?”

    “Does it involve more sleeping? Or games?” Ross frowned as a new thought came to mind. “Do I have to put on actual clothes?”

    “Nah. We do whatever the fuck we want all day long, because that’s what we do on best friend day.”

    Smith said it with the complete and utter conviction of a scientifically proven and peer-reviewed fact, but even if it wasn’t a real holiday at all, they were going to take it. “One time only, or is it annual?” The man in the middle yawned.

    He considered Trott’s question, moving in a bit to reconstruct the pile they’d had prior to waking up. “Today, every single year, for as long as we’re friends.” He nodded, pleased with both his conclusion and the newly-rebuilt pile of body and blanket.

    “Hm. I like this holiday, let’s get started.” With Ross’ last words on the matter, as he started snoring quietly not three minutes later, they did just that.

    Maybe staying in one room together all day on what most people considered the most romantic day of the year didn’t help the accusations and theories surrounding them and their relationship. In fact, there was no maybe about it– it didn’t help at all.

    Who cared? They didn’t have anything to worry about.


End file.
